The Bronze Head of Virginia Woolf Seen Through the Railings of Tavistock Square on a Bright Spring Morning in 2020
Her tiny headpeers above three jarscrammed with votive jonquils – her face among the crows, the marching limes, the warty humps and bubblesof the London planes. Bronze and bluebell. Bronze on high Portland stone. Her beauty wrenched from clay, whose sculptor stabbed unfinished voidsto stare directly at the surging wave, eyes that studied fin and rainbowforced, like millions